


Can I Court You?

by OnceFutureEmrys



Series: My Merlin Bingo Fills 2021 [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Camelove 2021, F/F, Femslash February 2021, Fluff, Light Angst, Merlin Bingo 2021, Morgana is nervous for once, and she's worried about it, no beta we die like men, she can't help it, shes got a big old crush on mithian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:21:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceFutureEmrys/pseuds/OnceFutureEmrys
Summary: Morgana has never been nervous. Never in her entire life.But, asking to court Mithian... now that's one thing Morgana is terrified about.
Relationships: Gwen & Morgana (Merlin), Mithian/Morgana (Merlin)
Series: My Merlin Bingo Fills 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2167410
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: Camelove 2021, Merlin Bingo





	Can I Court You?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! This is for Camelove 2021 and for my Merlin Bingo fills!
> 
> I churned this one out really quickly and I'm not a big fan of the ending, but hopefully it can bring a smile to someone haha. Constructive criticism is always welcome! Thanks so much!
> 
> Tiny warning: my italics weren't working towards the end of the story and I was too impatient to try and fix it so it is the way it is. Sorry about that!

Morgana was not a nervous person.

If anything, she made other people nervous.

Morgana had always been strong-willed and assertive. She was always one to have strong opinions and she was never afraid to express them.

She’s not sure when she decided on being outspoken on her beliefs. In her mind, it had always seemed to be just a part of her personality. She remembers when she was six years old and her father had told her that some commoners took issue with women fighting in the war. Morgana had scoffed, claimed that those commoners were idiots, and that she bet she could beat half of them with just her tiny fists. He had laughed and ruffled her hair. “You’re going to grow up to be a fighter, Morgana,” he had told her proudly while smoothing out her hair. “I can’t wait to see it.”

After her father died, she made sure to always stay true to who she was, so her father could still see it.

Morgana was anything but a quitter. When she first came to Camelot as an orphan, with no one she could call a friend, she had bravely held her head high anyway and painted a bright smile on her face. When she had first met Arthur and he had bullied a young commoner, Morgana had told him off for that behavior and instantly won the people’s hearts. 

When Camelot told her that she was unable to learn how to fight because she was a woman, she stood her ground and said that she was as good as half of the knights and if she could prove it, then she should be able to learn as well. Uther had scoffed but Morgana had proved him wrong when she set up a tournament in which she took on every single knight in Camelot and was able to beat just about half of them. Uther had no choice but to give her a chance to learn then.

When Camelot told her that who she was -- a magic user -- was wrong, she was the one that had fought more than anyone, who always spoke the loudest. She had never been afraid of the consequences, of her potential demise. Morgana had never been one to sit and watch as the world crumbled around her.

Needless to say, throughout her life, Morgana has shown time and time again that she is incredibly fearless. She never is afraid, let alone nervous. And if she was, she’d never let anyone see it.

But, right now, in this very moment… she was nervous.

She hated this feeling.

She hated the butterfly feelings that were threatening to choke her, she hated her sweaty palms, she hated how she felt like she could barely breathe, she hated how tense her shoulders were, how fast her heart was pumping--

Morgana had rarely felt this concept of fear before, and even if she had, she had always been able to push it away.

So, what was her issue this time?

Well, maybe it was because she was planning on… asking someone. A very important question. A very important question that she was worried would break her friendship.

Now, Morgana as the king’s ward, and as a beautiful woman herself, was constantly talked up by men. Nobles, knights, squires -- any man that she knew, perhaps besides Arthur, Leon, and Merlin -- had always requested to court her.

And Morgana had never been shy. She had been known to flirt with men before, slightly pushing the edge of _friendship_ and _something more_ without ever crossing the line.

The truth is that Morgana’s very good at making games at other people, at flirting with someone when she knows it will never lead anywhere, and doesn’t want it to lead it anywhere.

It was different with Mithian.

She wanted… she wanted her, as more than just a friend. She… didn’t just want to flirt with her and move on. She wanted to keep flirting with her, keep looking at her, keep being close-- she wanted _her_. 

Besides Gwen, Mithian was someone she trusted entirely. Morgana was worried that she would be rejected which would sound downright crazy to anyone else but Morgana because, in all of her life, Morgana had never once been rejected. 

But it was different because Mithian never flirted with her. Mithian had never seemed to look at Morgana as anything other than a best friend. It made Morgana want to puke and cry at the same time.

Gwen had told her that she was being delusional, that, of course, Mithian would say yes because how could she not, but Morgana was unsure. This was even more peculiar because ‘Morgana’ and ‘unsure’ were never put in the same sentence unless it was Morgana making someone else feel unsure. 

She remembers when she had first met Mithian during the first Yule celebration. She had just lost her father a couple of months ago and back then, she wasn’t used to crowds. That’s when she had met one of the visiting nobles -- the princess of Nemeth -- who had asked her to dance. Mithian had told her that she was alright, that she sometimes got scared in crowds, and told her a little trick on how to stay calm. 

She had breathed in and out to show her and Morgana had followed. Surprisingly she was calmer and looser than she had ever been before and when Mithian softly smiled at her, Morgana had soon become anxious for a whole other reason.

From then on, Mithian had always been there for Morgana whenever she needed a shoulder to cry on or whenever she needed an ear to listen to her moan about annoying Arthur or about the tyrant king Uther. They had exchanged letters at every chance they could, and when she came every year for the Yuletide celebrations, Mithian would hold her hand the entire day, buying frilly dresses and flashy jewelry. They would spend the nights dancing and whispering to one another and acting like fools, not caring for those who would find them improper. From that day forward, they had become best friends, and Morgana had found much-needed peace and comfort when it was just the two of them and they could talk about whatever they wanted, without ever needing to hide who they were. 

Morgana knew for sure that she didn’t want to lose that peace, that comfort she only really found with her.

But Morgana was not one to pine either. If she wanted something, she usually got it.

And so here Morgana was now, taking deep breaths in and out, attempting to ignore the crowd of thoughts and feelings and emotions that seemed to be attacking her at every turn.

She straightened her spine, wiped her palms on her emerald dress, and was about to knock when the door swung open.

Morgana’s eyes widen and she froze as Mithian’s face came into view. 

Mithian was standing there with riding gear on, a black cape loosely tied on top of a white shirt. Her curly hair flowed down her back as she stood there, looking regal and confident and _sexy_. Morgana shivered. 

She wasn’t wearing anything fancy, but Morgana still thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world. 

_God_ , Morgana thought, _there were beautiful girls but Mithian… she’s a whole other_ breed _of beautiful._ Morgana stands, with her jaw hanging, and Mithian laughs. Even her laugh makes Morgana want to squeal or hug something because of how cute and wonderful it is.

God, she was acting way too in love right now. Arthur would’ve called her a love-struck girl. (Which I mean, she was, but so was he, so really, he didn’t have any room to judge). 

_Get ahold of yourself_ , Morgana thinks. _Just puff your chest, act confident, and just go for the kill._

_Sort’ve like hunting or sword fighting; take the logical approach, assess the situation, plan the perfect ti--_

“Can I court you?”

Oh. 

Bloody.

No. 

Morgana.

_Why?_

_Why did you do that? I thought we agreed to wait and bide our time, that was the exact opposite of waiting and biding our time!_

Morgana at this point is beet red, glaring at the ground, wishing for lightning to strike her, for Gwen to come stumbling into view, she’ll even take a surprise attack from Arthur -- anything, _anything_ to get her out of this mess she’s created. 

Mithian laughs and Morgana, her embarrassment fueling her, grits her teeth. She balls up her fists, narrowing her eyes in the way she had best learned from Gaius. “Well,” she says cooly. “I didn’t realize it was _so funny_ for me to ask you such an important question. I'm sorry I ever asked.” 

Mithian stopped laughing and Morgana turned away, tears attempting to fall. She pushed them away. She was Morgana, the king’s ward, daughter to Gorloris and Vivienne. She did not cry in the face of rejection, rather it made her stronger and--

“Wait,” Mithian was calling for her. Morgana stupidly, stupidly decided to listen to her despite the fact that she knew it would break her heart even more. 

Mithian came around the corner, seemingly running to catch up with her. 

“I’m sorry,” were the first words out of her mouth. “I didn’t think you meant it.”

“Did my reaction not give it away,” Morgana asked, allowing for her anger to bleed in.

“No, no, it did, I’m sorry I was acting like an idiot,” she said rushedly, blocking Morgana’s only hope of escaping. _Damn you, Mithian! Couldn’t she just leave me alone?_

“You were,” Morgana said, willing for the conversation to end.

Mithian seemed quite worried and Morgana felt a bit guilty for snapping at her when it wasn’t really her fault. She knew more than most that people didn’t get to choose who they loved. She sighs. “It’s alright, Mithian. I’m sure it’s merely a passing thing. You don’t have to say--”

“No, no please stop that, Morgana,” Mithian says and Morgana narrows her eyes. All she wanted to do was run to Gwen and have her lovely hands run through her hair while she cried. Could she not even have that?

“Well, if you’d excuse me--”

“You can court me!” Mithian’s voice carries throughout the empty hallway, and she’s sure a knight somewhere has heard. Mithian herself blushes, her eyes looking anywhere but at her.

Morgana’s eyes widen and she blinks. She pinches herself because she must be dreaming but she’s not and so now she must be deaf because those words definitely didn’t enter her mouth and--

“I would love for you to court me.” Mithian says it with more conviction as if she truly believes it, which just boggles Morgana’s mind even more.

“You… like me?” Mithian nods. “Like… like like me?” Mithian nods. “And you didn’t say that when I first asked you?”

“I was nervous! I thought you were kidding!”

“You idiot,” Morgana says, but she’s grinning from ear to ear and smiling because oh God, she likes her! She really does like her!

Mithian smiles back and then they’re both laughing at their own stupid, dumb antics. “We’re both idiots,” Mithian concludes and Morgana has to agree.

Morgana’s never liked being seen as an idiot, but she thinks she can accept that, as long as she’s got this even crazier idiot by her side. 


End file.
